Of Pleasantries and Broken Souls
by Cherish Elle
Summary: When Lily felt her life slipping through her fingers, she turned to the hypothetical constant that was her sister. She started writing letters she had no intention of sending, introducing Petunia to her chaotic life and everything that had to go with it, including her growing fondness for one infamous James Potter.
1. Prologue - Lily's Worst Memory

**_A/N: Hurray for the decision to start a serious Jily story. Yes, the format will stay this way; yes, the chapters will be this long, give or take (mostly give); yes, it will contain 7th year and possibly a bit of post-Hogwarts Jily._**

_**Shout-out to my beta Alex (anobscureaspirant on Tumblr) for making this happen!**_

_**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter or anything that has to do with it, including some original quotes found in this chapter from Snape's Worst Memory.**_

_**Now let us commence.**_

* * *

**Of Pleasantries and Broken Souls**

_Prologue_

(Lily's Worst Memory)

* * *

_4 September 1976_

_Dear Petunia,_

_How are you doing? How's Vernon? Did you guys enjoy your trip to Majorca? What is it like in Majorca, anyway?_

_My guess is sunny, but other than that I wouldn't really know; it's not like I left Britain and am conveniently suffering from amnesia. Mum told me she wishes you stayed home more, but I think that's just because she wants someone willing to model her dresses. Dad volunteered, but you can see why it didn't work out._

_(Talk about clothes—did you buy that pink swimsuit we saw in June?)_

_Anyway, I actually wanted to tell you a couple things that I didn't have the guts to bring up during summer. It doesn't have to do with Vernon, don't worry._

_(I'm still sorry for embarrassing you two at dinner—I really just wanted to make conversation, but I should've actually thought about what I was asking)._

_This is about Severus. I know you never liked him and always told me he was awful, so you probably could've said "I told you so" when I said we were no longer friends but I'm really glad you didn't._

_Truth is I didn't really tell you what happened that day. It was the day of my Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL (that's one of the very important exams, remember?)._

_To be quite honest with you, it had really started off as a good day (as good as exam days go). I spent the morning mostly studying, but so did the other Gryffindors, and it was morderatly fun—until the actual cramming started and we ended up snapping at each other. _

_Okay, that's pretty boring. In my defence, it was an exam day, and what else should you do on exam days except last minute studying. Well, unless you're James Potter and Sirius Black._

* * *

_The Kappa has webbed hands and a depression atop its __**head**__ that is filled with water._

She let her quill down, tilting her head ever so slightly to inspect her notes for any other corrections they might've needed. It was less than a couple of hours until the Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL, and Lily was feeling particularly distracted. It didn't help that, on her left, Mary was making faces at the parchment.

"Stop it," she tried to sound firm, but she couldn't get rid of the traitorous smile on her face. "You're distracting. And it's not like the parchment can see you."

Mary rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair. "I can't help it. I mean—the properties of a fanged Puffskein and why it's illegal to breed them? Five ways to stun Cornish Pixies? When are we ever going to need that?"

"Maybe you'll want to be a zookeeper for seemingly harmless creatures in the future," Lily offered innocently, expecting a glare that never came because Mary still had her eyes on the parchment.

"What even _is _a fanged Puffskein?"

"A fanged Puffskein," said a third voice, seating herself next to Mary and holding a mug of pumpkin juice. "Is something you would know of if you paid attention in Defence instead of tossing parchment at Professor Crawford."

Mary looked up at Marlene and gave her a one-armed shrug. "I really can't help it. He manages to make _magic _sound boring. He's worse than Binns."

"No one's worse than Binns," said Lily in return, having long ago realized she couldn't keep focused during History of Magic for more than twenty minutes at once.

"True. Besides, he'll be gone by next year," Marlene added, sipping thoughtfully on her juice and balancing _The Advanced Guide to Beasts and Beings _on her thighs.

"Not you, too," said a new voice, and Lily craned her head in its direction. Jack Mercer was barely a few feet away from their couch, and looking distinctly ruffled. Lily wondered if he was even aware of the quill sticking out of his hair. "The curse isn't real, McKinnon."

"I never said it was, but I heard some Hufflepuffs saying Professor McGonagall caught him snogging with a seventh year."

There was a pronounced sound of 'Ew' coming from Mary and a lot of cringing on Jack and Lily's part. Out of the five cases of dismissal she had seen so far, this one took the cake.

"That's something I didn't need to hear," Mary voiced her exact thoughts. "Let's go back to learning useless things."

"They're not useless."

"Yes, they are, Marlene. When are you ever going to need to stun Cornish Pixies? At least in Muggle school, they taught you things like Maths. Now, that's something you use in the future," she grumbled almost indistinctively as Jack took a seat on Lily's right.

"You're a witch, Mary. And who knows when you're going to want to work in a reservation for incredibly harmless creatures?" he suggested.

Lily had to bite back a laugh as she realized she'd given Mary more or less the same suggestion. The girl in cause had noticed, too, but instead of laughing, she settled on giving him one of her darkest glares.

"Lily, tell your brother the Evans family snark's not appreciated."

"What?"

"Never mind."

"What?" he insisted, turning this time to Lily, whose smile was twitching. "I think the joke flew over my head. Since when are we related?"

Marlene seemed to have abandoned her pumpkin juice along with her book and was now staring at the exchange with quirked eyebrows. "I haven't the vaguest idea."

They didn't joke around for too long after that. Soon enough, Mary had already gone back to her study of useless facts, Jack disposed of the quill in his hair and, by the time Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin had arrived, Lily was immersed in a lecture of curses and counter-curses. She looked up at the sound of them approaching.

Lupin, even with his distinct pale and sickly look looked a lot better than most of the OWL students Lily had seen in the hallway lately. He also seemed to be faring exceptionally better than Pettigrew was. The boy was a right mess, shaking down to his toes as he gripped tightly on the set of notes he was reading over; he didn't seem to have combed his hair this morning. Lily offered him a sympathetic glance, and he returned it with a smile.

They exchanged pleasant hellos, but Lily was quite sure this was not the reason the two of them had approached their small group. Her suspicions were confirmed when Remus' eyes started darting around.

"Have you, by chance, seen James and Sirius around?"

And they all answered no. As the boys thanked them and departed (one more clumsily than the other) Lily's smile slipped down to a thoughtful frown. It was obvious to anyone who'd ever met James Potter and Sirius Black what they might have been doing. It took some of her willpower not to rub at her Prefect Badge and go look for them, but in the end her responsibilities as an OWL student clearly out-weighted the ones she had as a Prefect. Besides, Remus was a Prefect, too, and it was exam week, so one could hope Potter and Black were studying in a secluded place and not causing any mischief.

And quite a while later, only she and Marlene were sitting on the couch in the corner of the Common Room. The exact same moment in which she was trying to get a stain of Pumpkin Juice (Marlene had a habit of drinking a lot of it before every exam) off of her _The Dark Forces: A guide to Self-Protection _copy, the two missing students from before entered the Common Room, instantly filling it with loud sounds of laughter.

Potter was the first one to take notice of her.

"Alright, Evans?" and he ran a hand through his already too messy hair. Sirius Black smirked as if there was a real joke behind it.

"Hello," she said evenly, letting her gaze fall back on the book, and distinctly heard Marlene greet them, too. "Your friends were looking for you earlier this morning."

"Did they say why?" asked Black.

"Not really, but Pettigrew didn't look too well."

"He gets really peaky during exam weeks."

She felt something shift behind her, and there was James Potter, looking over her shoulder and down at her book, which was no longer stained orange.

"You're not going to need catching up on this chapter. Pretty sure they're not going to have it in the exam."

She didn't say thank you, or asked him how did he know that, but instead, "Shouldn't you two be studying? There's less than an hour until the written examination."

Potter smiled quite dubiously, before seeming to snap back to reality. "We've done our fair share of studying, believe me."

As if it wasn't obvious they didn't, Black snorted from behind him. But she'd also seen him carrying a bag when they entered, so perhaps they weren't so hopeless. Or perhaps they had just stored up on Dungbombs to perform an unnecessarily cruel prank during the exam. Merlin, she hoped not.

"You'd better hurry, then," said Marlene, who Lily had almost forgotten was here for a second, for she was unnaturally quiet. "Given twenty more minutes, you won't be able to hear your thoughts from all the panic going around."

"So that's twenty minutes until Wormtail has a major freak-out. C'mon, Prongs. We don't want a repeat of last year," said Sirius Black, a trace of laughter still present on his face, and the two of them took in the direction of the dorms.

"See you around, Evans," Potter called over his shoulder, seeming to have regained the usual strut to his walk and the overconfident smile.

Lily almost rolled her eyes. "Good luck at the exam!" she called out.

"Oh, we won't need luck. We'll just have to be brilliant."

His last words hung over her head almost like a promise.

* * *

_Yes, Petunia, of course they're involved in this story. _

_On the bright side, I suppose, the exam itself turned out to be more than manageable (turns out I got an E, the second to best grade) and after we were let out, I joined Mary and Marlene by the lake. It was a really nice day, so we just sat around and chatted, dipped our feet into the water, discussed Mary's questionable taste in boys, etcetera. It's getting better (well, worse), I swear._

_So, everyone was minding their own business, and then it's like I blinked, only to see they've crowded around to watch something._

* * *

"Did Remus make you smell his practice potions again, Mary?" asked Marlene, minutes after the exam when they were all sitting by the lake, splashing water with their feet. "Alfie Jefferson is absolutely _hideous_."

Mary flicked some water in her direction. "You're so superficial, Marlene. Alfie's adorable."

"Except for the bowl cut and the fact every inch of his face is covered in pimples—yeah, he's just like a puppy. A very strange, socially awkward puppy, that is."

"Who _cares _what his face looks like? He's a really great bloke, you know."

"You're just saying that because he bought you a large bag of Honeydukes sweets with his allowance."

Mary flushed very noticeably and kicked harder at the water, this time managing to soak some of Marlene's left side. "What can I say? I'm a woman that enjoys the finer things in life."

"The finer things in life cost a whole bag of galleons, so I think you should come back between us commoners until the day you marry an heir," and then she winked. "I heard Sirius Black is single."

Lily burst into laughter the exact moment Mary slammed her whole weight onto Marlene's side, making her lose balance and nearly topple into the water. Her hand instinctively latched onto Mary's, sitting closest to her, and Lily quickly extended hers to grip her by the shoulders before the both of them would be sent on a visit to the giant squid. This seemed to help, because no one fell into the water and they managed to resume sitting quietly as they were before. And then they all burst out laughing. They could only imagine what this had looked like from afar.

After a while, Marlene seemed to drag at her cheeks as to sober up and said, very seriously, "You could've just said he was not your type."

And unhelpfully, Lily added, "But there's still Potter to consider, Mary. I give you two my blessing."

"You are the absolute worst," she retorted, but didn't try to push either of them into the water, and the laughter in her eyes hadn't disappeared.

It was quite nice, Lily thought, just hanging out and being silly on a very stressful moment of the year. Not that she'd found the written exam particularly hard, but there was something absolutely wonderful about hanging out by the water and just laughing about everything on a day this nice it would be a shame to spend the rest of it cooped up inside the castle. Some time later, Sev would probably seek her out and they'd compare notes on the exam, or maybe Marlene's brother, a NEWT student, would wave at her in the hallway, or maybe Emmeline Gardner would braid her hair at evening. She could almost feel it, deep in her veins—the anticipation for something, for _anything._

Maybe she should've been wiser, because the anything came in the form of a sudden lot of noise—exclamations, a spoken incantation, the flurry of footsteps behind them as everyone gathered around one spot and Mary untangled her fingers from her hair and all but moaned, "Please let it be someone giving out cauldron cakes."

One small part of Lily urged her to go in a different direction—the very opposite direction, for instance. But Lily was easily concerned, and she was curious, and she was a Prefect, so she pushed through some students (it wasn't hard, because after a while they just parted willingly to make her way).

She heard screams and very, very foul words, and then a voice that just made her spine straighten and her stomach fill with dread. _We'll just have to be brilliant._

There was a thick layer of bubbles—soap bubbles—coming out of Severus' mouth. He was blue in the face, and looked like he was choking, but his eyes never left Potter. And he, the cruel bastard he was, because she had no other words to think up and didn't with to, just looked back with a smirk on his face, and his wand pointed and—

"Leave him ALONE!" left her mouth before she could help herself, before she could _want _to help herself.

He turned around—so did Black. And then he ran a hand through his stupid hair, as if he was doing absolutely nothing wrong and there was no one _suffocating _behind him because he was being a lowlife bully, like Severus always said he was.

"Alright, Evans?" he asked, just like he did not that long ago, and if Lily would have closed her eyes, she might've seen the Common Room, and not the lake, and if she looked down, she would've seen parchment.

But down, there was no parchment, only grass, and in front of her there was Potter, and even though she was no longer in the Common Room, she saw red.

* * *

_Of course it had to be James bloody Potter, you see. He and Severus never got along. It didn't give him or his friends an excuse to go on and pick on him, but it explained half of what happened._

_The other half, I can't really explain, either, without having to admit you were right._

_I don't think you know what a Mudblood is. I don't even feel that much when I write that word, you know? It's horrible to hear, though. It's what "pureblood" wizards call us Muggleborns. Dirty blood, unworthy of magic, impostors. It's sickening to see how prejudiced they are. _

_That's what Severus called me._

_Later that day, I thought that, in hindsight, if I didn't jump in his defence, he wouldn't have been embarrassed and wouldn't have called me something that awful. But then again, how could he being embarrassed excuse the fact he thinks I'm nothing but filth? Even if I let it be that day, it didn't mean he'd stop thinking it, so he could have said it on the day of the Defence exam or three years from now, but he would've said it anyway. "It slipped", he said. "I didn't mean it." But how can you not mean something like that?_

_You always told me he was a horrible boy. You were kind of right, okay? I want to think you're not silently cheering right now._

_But how could my best friend face me and say he didn't mean to call me something so awful—to admit he doesn't think "my kind" can be just as good as wizards with magical parents. _

_He listened to those bigoted friends of his even though I was there. Do you know I still can't wrap my mind around the fact that, the whole time he was with me he just thought I was some kind of sub-standard, some disgusting creature only worthy of his pity?_

_They're the disgusting ones. They're wrong, and I wish Severus never met them, or that I'd done a better job keeping him away from them and their purist propaganda. (Was there anything I could've done to prevent this, though? What do you think?)_

_I was really mad, Petunia. It was the only emotion I could have that didn't involve crying, because I suppose I wanted to have at least some dignity left. _

_And, as if Severus wasn't hard enough to deal with, there was also Potter._

_He and his group of friends had no business targeting anyone, let alone people who hadn't done a thing to them. So I vented out on him._

_He made it easy enough. Everyone was crowded around us, he had Severus on the receiving end of a hex for nothing he's done, and what does he do? He messes with his hair and asks me out._

_I do not kid you and I'm not letting you start laughing. But that's exactly what he did. I rejected him and I admit I wasn't very nice about it, but how could I be, in that situation? Did he honestly think there was a chance I said yes?_

_And then I told him to let Severus down, and he did, and I'm not sure what happened next, but suddenly, Potter had a bloody cheek and Severus was upside down, with his underwear on display._

_I almost smiled. Can you believe how despicable I was?_

_So I did what I could—became angrier. I said "Let him down" and I think I said it a couple of times, and then Severus—and his damned pride—called me a Mudblood._

_I might've said something cruel in response, but I can't remember what. I know I was furious, and then, Potter just had to go and make this worse. He started defending me, of course. I was so angry, and he was being so arrogant and so undignified and so horrible._

_I don't need James Potter to defend my honour. (Maybe Severus didn't need me to defend his, either, but that was different.)_

_So I screamed at him._

* * *

"Apologise to Evans!"

That was what James Potter yelled immediately after Severus called her a 'filthy little Mudblood'.

She was taking deep, heavy breaths the whole time, clenching and unclenching her fists, carefully avoiding the concerned looks she was receiving from her friends. The crowd hadn't dissipated one bit, and Lily Evans was not going to lose her temper in front of the whole castle.

Her resolve cracked when she saw Potter's wand point threateningly at Severus.

"I don't want _you _to make him apologise!" she said with a voice so loud and strong that she wouldn't have been amazed if her throat went sore immediately after. "You're just as bad as he is."

And that, she thought, was true. It was painstakingly true, and even the prospect of having James Potter, the same James Potter throwing spells around and humiliating people just for laughs, as her defendant made her physically ill. Lily looked at them, really looked at them, and had half a mind to spring in the complete opposite direction. But, she concluded, when James Potter gave her an incredulous look, that was not what she would do.

"What?" he yelped, sounding genuinely bewildered. "I'd _never _call you a—you-know-what!"

Everyone was watching. She could see Mary and Marlene, the former looking as if she was contemplating taking out her wand to attack, the latter looking absolutely mortified and glancing helplessly from Lily, to Potter, to Snape, and finally to Remus Lupin, who had finally abandoned his book. She saw Black and Pettigrew from the corner of her eye and, suddenly, that was it.

She knew her face would be getting gradually red—as red as her hair, as the Gryffindor Common Room, as the anger bubbling inside of her (an alternative to tears her pride wouldn't allow her to shed). And with a final twitch of her jaw, she just couldn't care less about everybody watching, or about Potter being sensible about slurs yet insensible about everything else.

"Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can - I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it," it took all of her willpower not to laugh bitterly. "You make me SICK."

If there was any reaction from him, she didn't stick around to see it. And she heard him calling as she hurriedly made her way back into the castle, looking down at her feet, at the grass, but never at faces.

Nobody stopped her. She walked the stone corridors, listening to the sound her steps. _Clank, tap, clank, tap, clank, tap…_

* * *

She eventually got to the portrait of the Fat Lady, she guessed, and to the dorm, because that was where she found herself maybe one hour and a bit later. She had no memory of what happened during that time, but judging by the soreness of her muscles as she tried to stretch them, she'd lied on her bed and fell asleep, even though she didn't feel well rested at all.

She couldn't fall back asleep for the life of her, so she let her head fall back down onto the pillow and stared blankly in the general direction of the ceiling, barely moving at all, save for her elaborated breathing making her chest rise and fall.

That was how Mary found her, too, when she drew the curtains of Lily's bed aside and carefully nudged her leg. Lily looked up at her friend. Her dark mass of curls looked strangely lopsided, and there was a dark smudge on her left cheek (probably dirt).

Lily wanted her to go away, because the anger had already worn out and if the only option left was crying, she would have really liked to do that on her own.

So, she finally asked "What?" in a weak, croaked voice, surprising even herself for a moment. _Ah_. The shouting she'd done at Potter.

"Marlene wanted me to check on you."

_No, she didn't. _Lily didn't say it out loud, though. A pregnant silence followed.

"…Okay, I wanted to check on you. Marlene actually told me not to," she admitted, awkwardly sitting down on Lily's bed, then standing back up. "Thought you'd need some time alone. But I was worried, I guess."

Lily didn't speak—she didn't know if that was because she was concentrating on pushing her feelings aside, or calling back all that anger or simply because she honestly didn't know what to say. Mary looked at her, expectantly, and bit her lip before continuing on her own.

"He's waiting outside the tower. Snape is, I mean…"

The sound of his name reawakened something in Lily. She pushed herself so fast and stood upright on her bed that Mary took a tentative step back, regarding her with unease. Lily's eyes locked with hers.

"Come on, then. Say it," she snapped, and Mary's eyes widened. "You _knew _that Sev and I were never going to work out. You and Marlene both. Probably having a party now that h-"she took a deep breath "he called me a Mudblood, aren't you? Finally, Lily's realized how stupid she'd been all along to think— To think—"

She couldn't finish the sentence by the time she felt something wet running down her cheeks; she didn't bother wiping at the tears either, because it wouldn't stop more from falling. Mary was silent for a very long moment, and when she spoke, it was softer than her usual high pitch.

"This isn't about me or Marlene, Lily. This is about you. Potter and Snape are both arseholes. And what happened today—you really didn't deserve any of that."

"It's fine," even though the lie was really obvious, it felt a little comforting. "Can I… be alone for a while, though?"

She didn't look at Mary for the real answer her face would give out, but verbally, she did not protest.

"Okay… You know where to find me… and Marlene, if you need us… that is."

She then put something on the bed, next to Lily, and left. She made sure to close the curtains behind. Lily, in spite of herself, reached blindly for the unknown object and her hand closed on something with a flat surface and reminiscent of a rectangle. _Honeydukes' Best—with Sour Cherry._

She took a good chunk of it and, as she was nibbling, she distantly wondered why was there ever a moment where she doubted Mary and Marlene as friends enough to think they would be happy to see her miserable.

* * *

_I actually don't think I would take back anything I said that day if I went back in time. Or maybe just one thing. Maybe._

_And, of course Severus tried to apologise. He even waited outside the Tower on countless occasions, but I realized I really did want to have some dignity left, so I couldn't forgive him. It's become obvious he'd changed—they've changed him. And I guess he chose them. Good. Fine. I don't want anyone who supports the disgusting blood purity ideals in my life. _

_As for James Potter, he's only tried to talk to me once. Whatever he wanted to say, though, I have no idea, because I didn't want to listen. So I did the most mature thing I could think of—I silenced him and stormed off. _

_What's actually the worst part of this is not only I can't blame Potter for our fall-out, but I still wish it never happened, and I can't let go of the idea things would've been better if he just shut up. They wouldn't have, I guess, because now I'm not sure if he was even my friend._

_Sorry I ended this on such a depressing note. I just want to tell someone who wasn't here to see it first-hand._

_I'm not going to make myself look even more stupid by adding something like 'hope you write back' at the end since it's not the case._

_Hope I'll see you next summer, though._

_Love, _

_Lily._

_P.S.: You were right; I do write really long letters._

* * *

**_If you enjoyed reading this, don't hesitate to drop a review!_**


	2. One - The Menace behind the Portait Hole

**Of Pleasantries and Broken Souls**

_Chapter I_

(The Menace behind the Portrait Hole)

* * *

_8 September 1976_

_Dear Petunia,_

_It's been a while. Technically four days since my last letter, but it's not like we talked in person, so it's actually been a little over three weeks._

_By the way, Mary told me she's been to Majorca before and turns out it is in fact quite sunny around there. I hope you remembered no one in the family is physically able to tan—or, as you're reading this, there's red blotches everywhere on your skin and you shake your fist at the letter, saying "Curse you, Lily!" and then I would answer, "I did try to warn you," and laugh maniacally behind my hand._

_Too much? Probably. Am I going to cross it out and start a new letter? Unlikely. _

_You see, Petunia, (and now you will be the one laughing maniacally and saying "I did try to warn you") things in Britain aren't going so smoothly for me. There's a good number of problems I'm not sure I want you to hear about, but I've already told you about one of them, and it's not like I have anyone else (that is not somehow directly involved in those problems) to tell._

_First up, things are really, really awkward with Severus._

* * *

"Evans."

A snappish voice cut through the air, almost interrupting Lily's land of warm, dark nothingness. As of late, she had discovered she really liked sleeping.

"Evans, wake up."

Sleeping was nice. She didn't dream—she couldn't see, hear, smell or feel anything, and it was the most fantastic way to escape from the pressure the actual world was inflicting on her even before she'd gone back to Hogwarts.

So, it was to her greatest surprise when, after convincing herself she couldn't hear her name being called, she also felt something. That something was quite heavy and was currently pressing onto her thighs and stomach, as if attempting to crush her. Her eyes flew open almost instantly.

"Oh, honestly," said the figure.

It was a girl sitting atop of her, looking particularly irritated—maybe at her reluctance to wake up. Her brown hair was flawlessly curled and her eyes were sharp. One of her dorm mates, Jenny Catchlove, said her brain.

Lily blinked once. Twice. Five times.

"Catchlove, why in the name of Merlin are you sitting on me?" she finally settled on asking, wiggling under the covers as if to shrug the girl off. Catchlove got up out of her own volition, and took a seat on the edge of the bed instead. She shrugged daintily.

"I 'ad to wake you up somehow, din't I?"

Still weary with sleep, Lily smiled ironically. "Wouldn't an Aguamenti be just as effective and not involve crushing my thighs?"

"Whatever," Catchlove brushed her off with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I need you to ge'up."

"Why?" Lily furrowed her eyebrows, seeking the watch on her nightstand. It was far too early to having run late. "I don't have class for more than a whole hour."

Catchlove rolled her eyes.

"I know. But that Snape bloke's outside the tower an' he all but pushed me over to get in. He said he wanted to talk to you an' won't go away," she pressed.

Lily's mood went from mildly irritated to hypothermic. She had no business of talking to Severus Snape, and had thought she made that clear enough when she had stomped on each and every of his attempts to apologise. Apparently, she hadn't.

"So let him stay here until he gets tired of it, for all I care," she stated frostily, glaring down at the mattress. It wasn't even the time for her to wake up, and both Catchlove and Severus had already managed to dampen her spirits for the day.

"Sure I woul', but I have to go to breakfast," she quipped with a tight smile, likely hoping Lily would grasp the unspoken request and fulfil it.

Instead, the redhead returned her smile. "Well, I'm not exactly keeping you here, am I?"

Catchlove glared at her, but Lily couldn't feel bad for any of the words she'd said. The two of them had never been best friends, really, but they were usually quite polite to each other. Lily could, however, call the situation in which she was woken up over one hour before she had to just to be persuaded into giving up her time for a lost cause, a special case.

"Very funny," the other girl drawled. "He won' exactly let me pass until I get you an' I told you he's a'ready tried to push past me an' get in."

Lily sighed, throwing her head back onto the pillow. "And what do you want me to do?"

"I don' know. Talk to him an' tell him to go away?" Catchlove offered with her usual air of smug intelligence.

"What a wonderful idea," Lily widened her eyes in mock wonder. "And while I'm at it, how about I try to convince Mary to give up sweets for life?"

"You don't have to be so _irritable_," Catchlove grimaced down at Lily, her eyebrows pulled tight together.

"You woke me up far too early by sitting on me, and you're also trying to convince me to go talk to a bloke I've been pointedly trying to _avoid _lately, and for very good reasons, too. I'm hardly being irritable—sarcastic at most."

"He's blockin' the portrait hole!"

"I'd understand if he were huge, but—"

"He's _your problem, _Evans. Not the whole of Gryffindors'. Why shoul' we bother walkin' around him everyday when you coul' just get over yourself and rid us of him?" Catchlove seemed far too bothered than she should've been, and Lily could feel a burning feeling in her stomach. "You just have to talk to him."

Lily sat up straight, letting her hair fall into her face before brushing it back. Sure she could talk to him, she mused, but that certainly didn't mean she wanted to.

"He's just going to overlook whatever I'm saying and keep pressing until I give in and accept to give him another chance," she told Catchlove, whose glare softened only the slightest bit. "Which I won't, because he's had plenty second chances and chucked them all away, and I'm just _tired _of giving him any more and having him walk over me." She was subconsciously rubbing her temples, proof of her getting worked up. She promptly stopped; she'd decided getting worked up about Severus was no longer a desirable option.

"I'm really sorry that it's becoming an inconvenience for the whole house, but this is how I'm choosing to deal with this problem. Can you understand that?" she asked the other girl, while holding her hands firmly in her lap.

Though obviously begrudgingly, Catchlove nodded. "I _see_ where you're coming from." The effect was ruined, however, the very next moment, when she assumed her best bargaining face. "But maybe—"

"Could we just close this discussion, please?" Lily interrupted her, making a move to stand up and get out of bed. No need to fool herself she would be getting any sleep after this. "Just go to breakfast. By now, there's probably a good number of people in the Common Room, and he's not stupid enough to try and storm into a place where he'd be cornered by Gryffindors."

There was a long pause, during which Catchlove got off of her bed and brushed down her skirt.

When the brunette spoke, she seemed almost sympathetic, "He's so nasty. You must really regret ever bein' friends with him."

Lily let her walk off without replying, and went for her trunk as soon as it happened. Had she not shut up, she knew she would've said something hurtful, that not even Jenny Catchlove, who had stupidly woken her up in the morning and asked her to talk to Snape, would have deserved. Lily didn't like talking about many things lately, she realised when she was pulling out a clean set of clothes and robes, and every passing day she was fearing just how violent her reactions would get if she _did _start talking.

One day, she would take out a quill, a fresh piece of parchment that was not meant for a letter and write:

_I will not talk back to people when they tell me my friendship with Severus was doomed from the very start. _

But as she made her way to the bathroom, she could only absentmindedly wonder if she had been really the only one in the whole castle who ever thought their friendship wasn't a path to destruction, a mistake or an explosion waiting to happen.

* * *

She ended up walking down to the Common Room not long after. There wasn't much left to do in her dorm, of course, as she couldn't be bothered to try sleeping any more; the other occupants, too, were sleeping, and it seemed cruel to wake up Mary or Emmeline when they still had enough time to keep sleeping.

That's how she found herself on a sofa, with a book she wasn't even remotely interested in, and quite an unpleasant feeling about the day to come.  
"I thought you weren't much of a morning person, Lily," said a familiar voice, and the very blond head of Jack Mercer's entered her line of vision.

Blimey, was everything about her uncooperative today. She hadn't even noticed him, or Pettigrew, for a fact, even though it wasn't as if the boys had been cowering behind a sofa just to keep her from seeing them. In fact, they were quite an open view, and playing wizard chess on top of all. She should've at least tried to go back to sleep, maybe.

"Catchlove is. And she couldn't bear the idea of going to breakfast without telling me first," she jokingly offered as she made her way to their spot next to the fireplace.

Jack frowned sympathetically. "Snape's outside the Portrait Hole again?"

"And getting physical with anyone who wants to go out, yes," she acknowledged when she was safely seated. "Can't believe she didn't have a go at you, too—Catchlove, I mean."

"I think she almost did," Jack cracked a smile. "I sort of said 'Well, that was a quick breakfast. You're not dieting, are you?' and she gave me that _look, _like the one Mary does when we tell her she's had enough sweets."

Pettigrew shook his head and hesitantly stretched his hand over a bishop. "She's barmy, that one. I'm pretty sure she was frothing at the mouth, too."

"Really? I thought that was just toothpaste," mused Jack, following the other's attempt to a move.

"Believe me, I know what toothpaste looks like. Remember Christmas in our first year?"

Lily couldn't help but snort in laughter, though she quickly covered her mouth; Pettigrew, fortunately, didn't seem too offended since he was, too, smiling.

During Christmas, in their first year, the Marauders weren't the Marauders just yet. Black and Potter, yes, were thick as thieves, but Lupin preferred to keep to himself and Pettigrew was sort of a pushover. Of course the former two didn't really like the latter, but they liked good-natured pranks and mischief just as much as they did now. It so happened that the lot of them and a few stray Gryffindors like Lily and Jack, stayed at Hogwarts for Christmas break. It was a gorgeous time of the year, and Lily could still remember how festive everything had been, from the dinner to the decorations on the halls and the gigantic trees the Professors had set up. The most festive thing, however, was a visit Father Christmas himself—well, not really, but quite close enough. And Potter and Black's idea of close enough was tiny, chubby Peter Pettigrew, unbeknownst to himself, in a red coat and a thick beard made out of toothpaste, cleverly mixed with a sticking charm. Professor McGonagall had to give them detention whilst trying to bite back her own laughter; Pettigrew became part of their group not long after.

"If it's any comfort, you were an adorable Father Christmas," she assured him, though she wasn't sure if he'd heard through Jack's uninhibited laughter.

"Thanks, Lily," he stated, quite dryly, but his smile didn't waver.

On the other hand, Jack, "Oh boy—Blimey—I mean," he threw his head back with his eyes closed, still shaking, as if the mere sight of Pettigrew would make him double over again. "If you say it like this, it would make more sense that you _didn't _know what toothpaste looks like," he cracked open one eye. "How did they even manage to convince you into wearing it?"

Pettigrew's cheeks coloured. "Well, you know the two of them were at the very top—a lot of people liked them, and people didn't really like me. So I wanted to be their friend."

"So you agreed to wear a ridiculous get-up just to be part of their group?" Lily asked, in disbelief.

He scowled. "Give me a bit more credit, will you? As I was saying, I wanted to be their friend, so I kept trying to make conversation in the dorms, or in the Common Room, and yeah. One day, I was trying to make it work and talk about how cool it is we're all spending the winter break together, and Sirius suddenly went like 'You know what, Pettigrew? You're a pretty alright bloke' and James said something like 'Yeah, mate. Wanna hang out with us?' so—"

"Wait," Jack, now fully sober, interrupted. "Like, out of a sudden they liked you?"

"And you believed them?" Lily finished, furrowing her eyebrows.

Pettigrew folded his arms over his chest, defensively; his cheeks were getting gradually redder.

"I was _eleven_ and my only friend was Alfie Jefferson," he explained, sounding almost exasperated. "I really needed some better opportunities."

Lily shrugged. "If I were you, I would've stuck with Alfie—he's loads nicer."

"He collects small dead animals," Pettigrew stated slowly, looking mildly mortified.

As if Mary's defending Alfie had rubbed off on her, "We all do something strange that people deem socially unacceptable," she retorted.

Jack shook her head in her direction. "You've never seen his beetle collection, have you?"

"I'm sure it's not that—"

"Oh, it is," Pettigrew insisted, waving his hand and almost knocking over the forgotten chessboard. "It makes you see things, Lily. Disgusting, horrible things you know you could live without ever seeing."

She gave a long look to the both of them, who were looking very serious and almost grim, and then spoke slowly, "You are deluded. The both of you."

"So you believe all the bull theories and stories about secret rooms in the castle, but won't believe Alfie Jefferson owns something that's a stomach-turning level of nauseating?" Jack scoffed, staring at her as if she were a whole different person. "Reality check, Lils."

"I think I'll just step out of this," she concluded.

Peter Pettigrew cleared his throat, seeming to have remembered something. "Anyway, back to my story. We unofficially became mates. But they said I still looked like a blubbering wimp, which they assured me I was not, so they offered to help, and I'm loosely quoting, 'man me up'."

Both Jack and Lily stifled their laughter.

"Well, you _did_ have a beard," she reasoned.

"One that would've been permanent if James didn't suggest to Sirius that maybe using his mum's sticking charm wouldn't be such a good idea," he grumbled.

"Sweet Merlin," was the only thing that Jack managed to say.

Lily cracked a smile. "You could've washed it off, though."

"Still, they were eleven and would've used a permanent sticking charm on my face. Tell me that's not terrifying."

"Terrifying by normal society standards?" she asked. "Yes. Terrifying by Marauder standards?" She raised an eyebrow.

"You make us sound ruthless."

"Sometimes you are," was her retort.

The words hung heavily into the air, because both she and Pettigrew had unwillingly remembered the end of their fifth year. He looked down, awkwardly, and she played with the hem of her blouse. Jack Mercer would have none of that.

"Exploding Snap, you two?"

The question was light-hearted despite being spoken with a twinge of apprehension, so Peter Pettigrew said, "Sure. Lily?"

Lily pursed her lips tightly. Then, after a short pause:

"I'll have you know I'm a long-time champion and not going to give up too easily."

"Champion? Hardly. We let you win out of pity."

"Bring it, Mercer."

"Guys, don't forget I'm also in the running."

"Of course. Let's knock her ego down a few notches, shall we, Pete?"

* * *

"Unbelievable," Jack Mercer huffed the moment Lily claimed her fifth solid victory of the day with a smile.

Pettigrew threw his hands up in resignation. "This is the fifth time we're getting our arses handed over in a day, and my ego is officially bruised," he declared. He then nodded toward the redhead, "You have some very swift fingers."

"Thank you," said Lily, straightening her back and feeling thoroughly satisfied.

Jack gaped at the Marauder, he, too, throwing his hands up, though in frustration. "_Your _ego is bruised? At least you've won twice."

"Just admit you're horrible at Exploding Snap," Lily offered, her smile twitching.

"Not a chance, Lily. You cheated," he made a pause and mockingly glared at Peter. "Both of you did."

"Is he always like that?" Pettigrew, who hadn't played Exploding Snap with Jack before, asked.

"All the time," Lily admitted, laughing, "But we still love him for it."

"No, we don't," said a fourth voice, coming from the direction of the girls' staircase. "We just like to convince him we do."

"You know you want me, McKinnon," Jack shouted, over his shoulder, to a laughing Marlene.

She faked a swoon, "Oh, Jack. For how long I've waited this day," she purposefully raised the volume of her voice, "Make me your woman," and promptly scared off some very uncomfortable looking second years.

"You two are so embarrassing," Lily scolded them, smiling guiltily at the retreating backs of the flustered Gryffindors.

"Regrettably," Jack spoke over her. "I happen to be a taken man."

"Since when?" all three of them asked, almost in unison and looking equally surprised. Marlene made her way to them. She leaned against the arm of the sofa Jack was sitting on and looked at him expectantly.

"Since," he stopped for good effect. "I went to the Leaky Cauldron with Sara Hayes this summer."

Marlene gaped at him, although smiling. "And it never occurred to you to tell us until now?" she smacked his arm, jokingly. "Way to go, Gryffindork."

"Sara Hayes, though?" Pettigrew asked, with a smirk. "You're gonna need a full body armour."

Jack scowled at him. "Says the single guy. 'Sides, Sara's just clumsy, not public menace like you lot make her out to be."

"Sara's a nice girl," Lily agreed, leaning back in her seat and smiling. "I'm happy for you two."

"Look. A normal reaction," he pointed to her, exaggeratingly. "Thank you."

"You huge prat," said Marlene in return. She sneaked a glance at her wristwatch. "We need to go to Potions, you know. If we leave now, we might catch some breakfast, too."

Indeed, the Common Room had started filling with people for a while, as opposed to being thoroughly deserted because of the early time.

Jack lazily hoisted himself from his seat the same moment Lily carefully raised out of hers. He casually shook hands with Peter.

"Nice catching up with you, Pete," and then he looked at the abandoned chess set and its disgruntled, but obediently quiet pieces. "We'll finish the game some other time."

"Good luck in Potions. I heard Slughorn has a new set of, er, _exquisite _robes he likes to brag about," he warned, pausing at the time to find an appropriately polite word to describe Professor Slughorn's expensive, yet strangely unpleasant clothing choice.

"Oh boy," said Jack in reply.

"Please don't let them be magenta," said Marlene, groaning softly.

Lily shook her head, smiling, as the three of them made their way to the Portrait Hole. It promptly swung open, only to remind Lily of the very reason she was subjected to a rude awakening.

* * *

_I mean, you would think that after such a messy break up one would know and want to keep a distance (I know I do), but instead, what does he do?_

_He's literally stalking me around the castle, trying to corner me and apologise when I've told him just about every time that I don't want to hear it. It would be an insult to my integrity to give in and forgive him. _

_Yes, you've heard me, Petunia. I'm actually not going to forgive him. I'm telling you this because I know you think I lack backbone where it concerns my friendships, but this is honestly about as much I can stand from him._

* * *

Severus Snape stood before her, his eyes wide in what seemed like surprise, hope and rage—all at the same time. Lily wanted to turn around and flee. When he scowled, though, she was reminded two of her friends were, in fact, behind her, and ready to have her back in case he tried anything she would be against.

"Lily," he said, almost breathlessly. "Lily, we need to talk."

"Severus," she replied, level-headedly. "No, we don't. I need to go to Potions," she paused. "And so do you."

"Lily, you've got to listen—"

From behind her, Marlene said: "She doesn't _have _to do anything for you, Snape."

He gritted his teeth together. "I didn't direct that at you, McKinnon, did I?" he spoke, venom lacing his every word, but his tormented eyes never leaving Lily's.

It made her sick to the stomach.

When Marlene and Jack were getting ready to reply, Lily carefully stretched her open palm in their direction to silence them.

"Not worth it," she said, simply, her voice seeming uncommonly detached even to her own ears. Then, to Snape, "Kindly bugger off, or I'll be forced to deduct points," she made a short, thoughtful pause. "And if worse comes to worse, tell the Headmaster about your prying at the Common Room of a house that's not yours and manhandling the students trying to get out."

He looked stunned—the son of a wench had the cheek to look actually taken aback. _What had he thought?_ Lily hissed angrily inside her mind, but tried her best to visibly control her anger. _That I'd overlook the fact he's being a bastard just because it's to apologise to me for—the irony—being a bastard?_

"I only want to talk to you," he pleaded, but not without sending a wary glance in the direction of her friends. "Alone, preferably."

If it wasn't for the fact she'd known Severus for so long, he would've seemed stoic, uncaring. The tone of his voice had barely budged as well, but his dark eyes held a fickle of emotion—of desperation—that she tried to avoid noticing, and failed nonetheless.

Someday, in a list of rules she would write, she'd add:

_I'll stop trying to erase history and write new stories instead. _

But today she wouldn't write a novel, and would settle for the prologue.

Heaving a sigh and looking horribly tired:"Really? Because that's exactly how I'd wish you'd let me." A very short pause. "Alone," she clarified.

His temper was visibly starting to flare up.

"I'm sorry, I'm _sorry, _alright? I shouldn't have said it!"

She didn't even bother to gape at him, although her scowl deepened. "But you said it, and even if you hadn't, you still _thought_ it," she pushed past him, determined to make it all the way to Potions the calmest she could. Breathe, stop, repeat. "I want friends who respect and consider me an actual _human being—_a concept that's lost on you and _your _friends, I guess." Although knowing she would regret it, she turned her head to face him. "Was I _ever _your friend, and not just 'a filthy Mudblood'?" There was an intake of breath; perhaps from Marlene, perhaps not. "Because I doubt it."

"Of course I was your friend—I was your _only _friend—" Jack scoffed loudly, at which Severus' sneer twisted in contempt. "I don't know what bullshit they fed you in Gryffindor—"

Lily completely twisted around, ignoring the lone voice telling her to pause between her breaths and move on. "They'renot the ones who fed me bullshit!" she snapped, but she was suddenly aware of the variety of looks she was receiving. Her voice softened, but her glare did not. "You _never _believed we could be friends, and just looking me in the eye while you keep tripping over your lies makes you such a despicable, ugly person."

He laughed, and it sounded bitter and hollow, and _horrible, _so horrible. "I didn't believe it? Do you hear yourself speak? They've _brainwashed _you, Lily. I knew it the second you were placed in that disgusting excuse of a house—"

Both Jack and Marlene had started protesting, but it fell on deaf ears.

"—that they would try to take you away from me."

"It was you whopushed meaway, though."

His eyes softened. "I didn't mean it."

"Yes, you did," she replied, just as promptly. The anger was making her blood boil—but she was already so angry, so tired, so fed up, that it did nothing but numb her. "You picked your friends, Severus, and they're not me. There's no more second chances left."

"One more."

She smiled, humourlessly. "Go live your life, and get the hell out of mine." Then she turned on her heel and left with only a small trace of angry tears prickling at her eyes.

Marlene and Jack arrived at the dungeons ten minutes later than she did.

All the while, Lily Evans would not admit that she shamefully hoped Jennifer Catchlove had choked on her breakfast.

* * *

_I know you're also going to say that maybe I might be overreacting; but not only is him using a slur against me absolutely horrible, but all the things he does lately, Petunia. You wouldn't believe it. Or maybe you would._

_Either way, remember I told you both Severus and I really liked Potions and always partnered up? You can only guess how that is playing out on my part. _

_But point being, no matter how much history there's between us, I'm never going to give him another chance._

* * *

Periwinkle blue. Not magenta, just as Marlene had begged, but perhaps just as bad. Professor Slughorn stood out quite like an eccentric and very blue bird between his students, who were all clad in black. The robes were actually quite nice, and probably the newest and most expensive trend in the wizarding world as of then, but if there was one place they didn't belong in, that would've been a classroom.

The man wearing them, however, did not seem to mind the thought too much, and greeted his students with the usual joviality. Lily felt a wave of pity wash over her when she heard muffled sniggers—Professor Slughorn was eccentric, she could say, but he wasn't nearly as bad as everyone made him out to be, nor as ridiculous, and nor as huge.

But he was quite a character, she thought, when half-way through her Draught of Living Death, the professor sauntered over to her work table.

"Impeccable work as usual, Miss Evans," he commented, nodding in appreciation and inciting a smile from the girl. "I daresay though that I'm quite," he lowered his voice and glanced discreetly to Lily's right, "confused at your choice of a partner."

Lily, too, shifted her eyes to the right. Godfrey Macmillan was no Severus Snape, of course—in neither the skill and nor the looks department. Perhaps the only feature the two of them shared were their dark eye colour, but Godfrey was built and tanned, while Severus was thin and almost sickly pale—their smile and that glint in their eye was different, too, and there was no space left for talk about their personality. Professor Slughorn would've had to be quite dense not to pick up on the difference, though perhaps the fact that Severus had been her one and only partner in Potions for the previous five years hadn't helped her cause.

She could feel remains of that numbing anger sweep back over her when she remembered their encounter at the front of the Common Room entrance, and the fact he was standing only two tables away.

"Severus and I decided to go in… different directions," she said, vaguely, and wishing for once that she was not good at Potions, and that Professor Slughorn did not like or care for her.

The man's eyebrows furrowed, "That's most upsetting. You two make quite a pair—if I were to be honest," he gave her the look he reserved for situations of the '_I'm not supposed to tell you this, but…'_ sort. "Perhaps the best pair I've had in the past twenty years or so."

She forced one of her best smiles. "That's really flattering, Professor. But," she trailed off, unsure of her point and deciding to talk her way around it, "life's just a bundle of opportunities for new beginnings, is it not?"

Maybe Professor Slughorn had found a deep, sentimental meaning behind her statement, or maybe he just thought it was hilariously bad and she was cracked in the head, because he let out a round of hearty laughter.

"That it is, Miss Evans. That it is," he shook his head with a pleasant smile still on his face. "Do keep up the good work—in both wit, and potion-making, though I might appreciate the latter just a bit more."

"Certainly, Professor," she said, as he shuffled past their table to inspect Jack and his partner's cauldron.

"'_Life's just a bundle of opportunities for new beginnings'_? And he believed it? Seriously?" Godfrey asked just as Professor Slughorn was out of earshot. Lily snorted in laughter, despite herself. "Could I borrow that next time Professor McGonagall looks like she's about to volunteer me as a dummy for a demonstration of the Killing Curse?"

"I thought you already had: _'But Professor McGonagall, it's most innovative!_'" she shrugged.

"It's started to lose its effect," he admitted, begrudgingly, his eyes downcast and carefully cutting the Valerian Roots.

"No offence meant, Godfrey, but how did you get into NEWT Transfiguration, anyway?"

"None taken, since it's coming from you. But you might want to know my family is brilliant at Transfiguration—it's _tradition. _Professor McGonagall simply refuses to see there's not just _one_ way to do a certain spell."

She did mean to tell him that transforming a hedgehog into a mirror with a very spiky handle when the outcome was supposed to be a hairbrush was, in fact, called an error and not an innovation, but this was Godfrey Macmillan, and perhaps with a bit of practise, he would someday do something actually innovative in Transfiguration, to Minerva McGonagall's indignation.

Then Lily heard: "Lovely robes, Professor Slughorn."

"I'm afraid flattery will do no wonders for your mark, Mr Black."

"I am not one for flattery, Professor. I am an honest man."

"Then if you would please honestly explain to me what went wrong with this Potion?"

"And abandon this _fascinating _discussion about your robes, Sir? I couldn't possibly. I heard Severus Snape, for instance, is very curious about where you've bought them. I reckon he might like them for Christmas this year."

A round of chuckles and barely stifled snorts of laughter echoed around the dungeon, and Lily's head instinctively snapped towards the table where the two Marauders, Potter and Black, resided. But the words on her lips felt silent and her glare faltered when she remembered who it was that she almost tried to defend.

Of course the fact she and Severus weren't friends anymore didn't make it alright for the Marauders to keep picking on him; but no, she was not going to come to his defence—not ever again.

Black looked quite satisfied with himself and, at his side, Potter barely bothered to hide a smirk behind the palm supporting his head.

"This kind of insolence will result in deduction of points the next time around, Mr Black," Professor Slughorn, looking thoroughly not amused, informed him.

"I'm sorry, Sir." He didn't look all that sorry, of course.

Lily's eyes carelessly shifted past Black's figure, to Slughorn's retreating one, and then to Potter's. He too, was staring at her. But there was something accusatory in his glance, in the way his eyebrows narrowed and his eyes darkened. _You were going to defend Snape, weren't you?_ He had no business in that, of course, but just knowing James Potter had noticed something that she wasn't even aware of at first did nothing good to her pride.

She almost expected him to jump up from his seat with the prospect of getting more ingredients, only to make a snide remark about one or another to Lily. He'd mess up his hair and expect her to retaliate or respond in her most polite manner, and then he'd be off to his table.

Sure he didn't, though.

One more rule she would add: _I will stop thinking I know so much about everyone._

A sudden howl of pain startled her, and perhaps most of the class. Breaking eye contact with Potter, she let her gaze rest on Godfrey Macmillan's finger, which was leaking a thin trail of blood.

Lily winced. It was no big feat trying to guess which one of them would be cutting Valerian Roots from now on.

* * *

_Another problem of mine? Marlene's got a boyfriend._

* * *

"—and his smile is absolutely gorgeous," Mary finished with a smirk of her own.

Potions class was mercifully long over, which prompted Lily and Marlene to seek out Mary for their free period, as usual. Which also meant they subjected themselves to the ramblings of a sixteen year old harbouring a recent crush.

"Absolutely not," said Marlene, tugging at a lock of her long hair. "He's a blubbering idiot—a couple ounces smarter than a troll, maybe," she mused. "And has no concept of romance. You can do so much better, Mary."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Marlene, don't you think you should—"

"—stop butting into everyone's relationships like you are the bloody Healer Amortentia herself?" Mary spoke over her, folding her arms and looking the tiniest bit flustered.

"I'm just trying to help," the other girl defended, speaking with a deliberate slowness.

"You're not much help, you know. Say, how's your relationship coming about—oh, wait!" A pause in which Mary raised her eyebrow. "You're still single."

"Mary—" Lily began.

"Am not, actually."

They both stopped to look at her with equally questioning looks. Marlene, at least, had the decency to look sheepish, and rather uncomfortable.

"And you were going to tell us you've snagged a bloke _when, _exactly?" Mary gaped.

"Well, soon enough, of course—"

"For how long?" asked Lily.

"…About half-way through July?"

"Marlene!" the darker haired of the three looked personally offended.

"Were you waiting to see if it lasts?" was the second question the redhead had asked, admittedly more curious than upset.

"Well… No, I mean I don't know." She shrugged. "I didn't really know how to tell you, I guess. He's not really…" She made a face, scrambling for an appropriate description. "Conventional boyfriend material."

Lily blinked twice. _Conventional boyfriend material?_

"Oh," said Mary, snappishly. "So you lecture me of being able to do better, but he's not 'conventional boyfriend material' is he, now?"

"He's not… much older, is he?" Lily tried to guess. What classified as 'unconventional boyfriend material' anyway?

Marlene's eyes widened. "Godric, no. He's in our year, actually."

"Is it one of the Marauders?" Mary instantly asked, but she looked far less accusatory than she did before.

"Erm, no."

"What house?"

"Not Gryffindor, obviously. Not Hufflepuff…"

"Ravenclaw?" Mary looked almost hopeful.

"Not…" Marlene let out a breath. "…exactly."

Lily wasn't one to judge, but she couldn't help the dread from bubbling inside her stomach. Surely Marlene wouldn't do that to her, would she?

The girl in cause seemed to notice, and her eyes widened in horror. "Oh. Oh, Lily, of course it's not _him._"

The three friends stood in silence for a while, contemplating each other's faces. Marlene looked uncomfortable; Mary looked heavily disturbed; Lily was pensive.

It was the latter who finally spoke, sounding resigned: "I swear, it really doesn't get worse than that, Marlene."

Marlene pulled some sort of reluctant grimace, avoiding eye contact with Mary. Then, with an ounce of her usual confidence:

"I'm seeing Damian Mulciber."

* * *

_I'll get back to you on that soon._

_Love,_

_Lily_


End file.
